I walked into Mr Grey's office with a steady composed gait. I quickly took in the details of the place; it was spacious and cozy, just like mine, but a trifle more grandiose. He was sitting comfortably behind his mahogany desk and was busy digging deep into some files as I stepped in. He was an aged man, probably in his mid-sixties, with a slightly wrinkled face and grey hairs and beard. His husky English accent was also a dominant trait of his personality. “Hello, Mr Grey!” “Oh you're welcome, Bernard. So pleased to see you,” he averted his gaze towards me, offering his hand for a handshake. “You may have a seat,” he gestured towards the seat opposite him. “Thanks,” I muttered under my breath. I sat down as expected, but was ill at ease, especially because of the way he addressed me. I knew he was way older than I was, old enough to be my father. But how could a grown man like me be addressed in such a way? Could there be something he was trying to insinuate? “May we proce
Last Updated : 2024-05-23 Read more